different, make up so exact a compound, that many are tempted to
believe it to be a simple and indivisible whole? What hand had the
skill to unite and tie together these two extremes and opposites?
It is certain they did not unite themselves by mutual consent, for
matter having of itself neither thought nor will, to make terms and
conditions, it could not enter into an agreement with the mind. On
the other hand, the mind does not remember that it ever made an
agreement with matter; nor could it be subjected to such an
agreement, if it had quite forgot it. If the mind had freely, and
of its own accord, resolved to submit to the impressions of matter,
it would not, however, subject itself to them but when it should
remember such a resolution, which, besides, it might alter at
pleasure. Nevertheless, it is certain that in spite of itself it is
dependent on the body, and that it cannot free itself from its
dependence, unless it destroy the organs of the body by a violent
death. Besides, although the mind had voluntarily subjected itself
to matter, it would not follow that matter were reciprocally
subjected to the mind. The mind would indeed have certain thoughts
when the body should have certain motions, but the body would not be
determined to have, in its turn, certain motions, as soon as the
mind should have certain thoughts. Now it is most certain that this
dependence is reciprocal. Nothing is more absolute than the command
of the mind over the body. The mind wills, and, instantly, all the
members of the body are in motion, as if they were acted by the most
powerful machines. On the other hand, nothing is more manifest than
the power and influence of the body over the mind. The body is in
motion, and, instantly the mind is forced to think either with
pleasure or pain, upon certain objects. Now, what hand equally
powerful over these two divers and distinct natures has been able to
bring them both under the same yoke, and hold them captive in so